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• Natasha Baker, Grade 5, Baynton West Primary School
• Short Story
• 2014

Excellence Award in the 'The Text Generation 2014' competition

Dame Lawson was the only one who knew. The wind howled and no one dared go inside. Then there was a knock. Dame Lawson sprang from her bed; the wart o her nose quivering. She flew down stairs like lightning, considering her pudgy figure, it was amazing. Then there was a piercing scream.
A figure crouched beside the door, then a flash of lightning lit up the glass. And Dame Lawson caught a glimpse of her. She seemed familiar, she was cradling something in her arms and there were red dirt stains all down her jeans. Dame Lawson opened the door, her hand firm on the handle, ready to slam it. The lady seized the dame fiercely. “Gertie!” Dame Lawson squawked.
“Let go! I say, what are you doing here? I was expecting a toddler, why, you’ll make useless servant!” she continues.
“You ought to have guessed.” Gertie burst into tears.
“There, there. But I don’t get it.” She patted her sister’s head awkwardly.
“You’ll get your servant, you should be pleased.” She couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice.
Finally, the Dame’s yes adjusted. A toddler trembled in Gerties arms; she clung to her mother wailing. The Dame pushed a wad of cash into Gertie’s shaking hands, “She’s rather small.” Was her biting remark.
Gertie hugged the little girl, pushed her towards the Dame and scrambled for the door devastated. The toddle game another piercing scream as she slung to her mother, Gertie pushed her away sobbing.. She begged the Dame, “Take special care of her. Promise you will.”
“I promise.” Gertie ran out the door and threw through the bush.